Just Within Reach
by JadziaKathryn
Summary: Trip and T'Pol are so close to having a child, but they will have to fight to keep her.(Complete)
1. Miracle Baby

A/N: This tale is meant to stand alone, but it follows the sequence of events I put forth in "The Question of Suitability" and "Here Comes the Bride." Neither of those is required reading to understand this.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize.

**Just Within Reach**

"This is an appropriate selection, though it is not scientifically accurate," T'Pol stated. "Twinkle, twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are."

"T'Pol?" rang out the distinctive Southern-toned voice of her husband.

"We are in the bedroom," she replied.

Trip Tucker sat down on their bed with a dramatic flourish. "Whatcha doin?"

"I am reading Elizabeth Mother Goose's Nursery Rhymes. They were recommended by Hoshi."

"Does she like them?" He looked over at the crib he'd made.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "She has not voiced discontent."

He chuckled in response, and she felt his amusement through their bond as well. "She's a hoot, isn't she, Lizzie?" Trip moved across the room and picked up an infant.

"Are you prepared for our conference with Admiral Ross?" inquired T'Pol.

"As ready as I'm gonna be. You?"

"I am." She picked up an _Enterprise_ duffel bag that had been converted into a baby bag.

"Let's get this show on the road, girls." He led the way out to the corridor. "First stop, Sickbay."

The baby in his arms closed her blue eyes and yawned. She had soft blonde hair and delicate pale skin. Phlox believed her to be sixteen weeks old, but she looked younger to Trip. She was so tiny! "You be good for Dr. Phlox now," he told her when they arrived at their destination.

"Good afternoon, Commanders," welcomed the eternally cheerful Phlox. "How's Elizabeth today?"

"Fine, thank you. She has recently been fed and is wearing a clean diaper. I anticipate that she will sleep for most of the time she is here." T'Pol set down the baby bag. "However, should our conference take longer than anticipated, I have brought ample supplies of food and diapers."

"An' she likes it if ya talk ta her," added Trip.

"Elizabeth and I will be fine," assured Phlox, who already knew that she liked to be talked to. "Good luck at your conference."

"Thanks."

"I hope that we will not need luck," commented T'Pol, "but I would not refuse assistance of any nature."

Ushering her out of Sickbay, Trip spoke quietly. "I haven't been this nervous since before we got married."

She knew that his level of anxiety was high, but chose to focus on another aspect of his comment. "Were you reconsidering your desire to marry me?"

"Not a chance! I was afraid that _you_ were reconsiderin' _your_ desire to marry _me_."

"You may rest assured that such was not the case."

"Have you ever been this nervous?" Their bond allowed him to feel her feelings, and Trip couldn't recall his wife ever being so anxious.

"No, I have not." With the admission, she began to walk faster. "It is unsettling. I hope that I will not experience this level of anxiety again."

He didn't have anything to say, but he gave her what he liked to call a "mental hug." They walked the rest of the way to Captain Archer's ready room in silence.

"Perfect timing," said Hoshi by way of welcome. "Admiral Ross just contacted us."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in?" asked the captain for the fifth time since breakfast.

"Yes, thank you," replied T'Pol.

"Good luck!"

"Thanks, Travis," Trip replied, letting the closing of the door prevent his wife's commentary on the phrase. "Ready?"

When she nodded, he pushed a button and the comm. system sprang to life. "Afternoon, Admiral."

"Commanders," Admiral Ross was a gruff man by nature, and he cut right to the chase. "You wanted to talk about the child?"

"Indeed, Admiral. The two weeks that you allocated to find relatives has passed."

"We blanketed the whole solar system, but nobody's come forward. Maybe all her relatives died onboard the _Tradewind_. The media's eaten it up, though. A baby survives fatal radiation because someone thought to modify the food stasis unit for her, and it worked. Then the miraculous rescue by your away team- we've had dozens of inquiries from people who want to adopt her."

"Actually, Admiral," piped up Trip, "that's what we wanted ta talk ta you about. We'd like ta adopt her."

"What?" It seemed that the admiral had not expected to hear that. "You two? On a starship?"

"Not on a starship, sir. As you are undoubtedly aware, _Enterprise_'s mission will end in thirty-six days. Both Charles and I have accepted commissions on Earth." Ross looked at her through the comm. link and thought about the offers they'd been given. The Academy dearly wanted T'Pol to teach high-level science classes, he knew, but he thought that Tucker's offers had all involved a ship or Jupiter Station. Then it occurred to him that Research and Development was always after engineers, and Tucker would be quite welcome there.

"T'Pol and I are formally submittin' a request to adopt the child. We've been married two an' a half years, which meets the 'suggested' minimum for adoption." Trip had to force himself to say "the child" instead of "Elizabeth;" in the eyes of Starfleet, the beautiful baby had no name.

"The two of you think you would be good parents?" Trip sighed inwardly, knowing that Ross was really talking to T'Pol.

"We have spent the last two weeks caring for her." Again, the admiral seemed surprised. "She is accustomed to us, and we to her."

"You believe that you would be able to raise a human child, Commander?"

"In the past two weeks I have grown exceedingly fond of this child. It would be an honor to raise her as our daughter." T'Pol felt Trip's anger at Ross and his pointedly personal questions.

"Could you love her?"

Trip was visibly irate, but she shot him a look and he said nothing. "I love my husband, Admiral, and I see no reason why I should not love a child." Trip's mood swung up at the look of shock on Ross's face. It had been less than a year since T'Pol had finally decided that she knew what love was, and it was not something she had told anyone but him. He amended that after a moment, because she might've told Hoshi.

"Very well, Commanders. I will let you know as soon as the agency reaches a decision."

"Thank you, Admiral."

"Thanks, sir," echoed Trip. He sounded sincere, although T'Pol knew he was seething inwardly.

"Ross out."

"Can you believe that guy? He was askin' if ya could handle a baby like you're a convict or somethin'!"

"Charles, the Admiral is asking nothing that the population of Earth will not wonder."

"It's just makes me want ta-"

T'Pol put her left hand on his arm, and the glint of her engagement ring caught Trip's eye. "Charles, if we do not pick Elizabeth up shortly, Dr. Phlox will have begun singing Denobulan sleep-songs." They'd already encountered Denobulan sleep-songs twice, and Trip couldn't stand them, claiming that they made his skin crawl.

"Let's go."


	2. Disagreements: An Interlude

"This little piggy went ta the market," was the first thing T'Pol heard when she entered their quarters. She found the story somewhat disconcerting, especially as it involved the digits of Elizabeth's feet, and preferred Mother Goose.

That, however, was not her focus at the moment. "Charles," she began. "I learned a most interesting fact from Ensign Miller today."

He would've asked what it was, but he could sense that she wasn't too happy, so he waited for her to volunteer the information. Ensign Miller worked with her in the Science Department, and he wondered what the petite towhead had said to upset T'Pol so much. He picked Elizabeth up and walked over towards his wife.

"She informed me that "Ring Around the Rosie" is about a traumatic event in Earth's history known as the "Black Death." A more scientific name for it is the "Bubonic Plague." Why are you singing about this event to an infant?"

"I know about the Plague, T'Pol. They only told us about it every other year in history class, from sixth grade on up."

"You are evading the point. "Ring Around the Rosie" is a song about this devastation. Why are you singing it to Elizabeth?"

He shrugged. "It's a cheerful tune, T'Pol. She doesn't know what it means. It's just fun."

"It does not sound remotely "fun," Charles. I believe that a more accurate description would be "macabre." Surely there are less distasteful songs you can sing."

"I'll have ya know that "Ring Around the Rosie" is a classic," retorted Trip. "Besides, I haven't heard _you_ singin' much."

"I rarely sing, however, I have sung to Elizabeth on several occasions."

"Really?" It was evident that he wanted to hear her sing. "What're ya singin'?"

"A rhythmic song about the rising and setting of the sun. It is often used to soothe Vulcan children, and Elizabeth has responded to it well."

"I can't wait ta show her the sunset."

"I believe that in several years she will appreciate the sight."

Trip gathered Elizabeth and T'Pol in a gentle hug. "We've just got ta get her, T'Pol."

"We must be patient."

"I know, but what if they say no?"

"We will appeal the decision."

"And then?" he asked, although he was rather afraid of the answer. She didn't reply right away, and he waited, looking over her back and the crib and feeling the comfort of having T'Pol and Elizabeth in his arms.

"I do not know," T'Pol said. "We must simply hope, Charles." Trip knew that she did not like how helpless she was. "I have found no other course of action."

Silence reigned for a moment, and then he recalled the earlier topic of their conversation. "Um, T'Pol?" He'd thought of another children's custom she probably would object to.

"Yes?"

"Have ya heard of the Tooth Fairy?"

* * *

As it turned out, the subjects to disagree on were virtually endless. A day after the "Ring Around the Rosie" discussion, Hoshi was able to get the couple real estate listings.

"It appears that we have vastly different opinions on the purchasing of a house," commented T'Pol, after looking at several houses that she could not fathom living in, and having her selections rejected just as quickly.

"Well, there are some things we agree on."

"Such as?"

Trip, who'd remarked without thinking a lot, pondered that for a few seconds. Nothing immediately came to mind. "We both want a bedroom an' a kitchen," he supplied at last.

She looked at him and considered those commonalities. "Perhaps we should continue looking."

He hit the "next" button and immediately decided that he did not like the house. "That's out."

"What is wrong?" The house had ample windows, which he wanted, and two stories, another must in Trip's book. T'Pol didn't see anything that he had objected to present.

"It looks like an old prison," he declared. "That's no place ta raise a kid!"

"Very well. What is next?"

"This is a nice one!" exclaimed Trip happily. "Waterfront property _and _a nice front lawn. It's got a garage, too." A garage was essential to any home, in his opinion. He had many happy memories of tinkering with his father in their garage.

"Charles, this house is located on an island." She pointed to the line where she read that crucial piece of information, and he moved his eyes down the screen.

"I bet the fishin' is good." He had no objection to living on an island. It sounded like fun.

"We cannot live on an island."

"Why not? We'd just take the ferry, or get a boat."

"I dislike the prospect of making my home surrounded by water."

He hit the "next" button. "I guess the houseboat is out, huh?"

T'Pol's eyebrow might have broken its previous record for height attained. Unfortunately, Elizabeth chose that moment to wake up and begin crying, so she never got to respond. Then again, between the bond they shared and her look, Trip didn't need words to know what his wife thought of living on a houseboat.


	3. One Step Closer

"Bridge to Tucker or T'Pol." Hoshi had to page them because Captain Archer had let them have shorter shifts to care for Elizabeth.

"T'Pol here." She and Charles had been observing Elizabeth amuse herself with a rattle he had crafted.

"Admiral Ross wants to talk to you. I'm routing him through to your quarters."

"Oh boy," muttered Trip, regretting the day that he'd installed viewscreens in senior officers' quarters. "We don't get much warnin' now, do we?"

"Very well," assented T'Pol, ignoring her husband's comments.

Trip lifted Elizabeth out of her crib and headed over to the viewscreen. "Think they've decided already?"

"We will soon find out," was all T'Pol would commit to.

"Commanders," greeted Ross. That seemed to be the only way he ever greeted them.

"Admiral," replied T'Pol at the same time Trip said, "Sir."

"I have news for you regarding the child." He looked at Trip, who was cradling Elizabeth in his arms. "How is she?"

"Excellent, sir," replied Trip impatiently.

"The adoption board has narrowed it down to five couples. You two are one of them." Relief flooded through both Trip and T'Pol. They'd made it past the first hurdle.

"If you don't mind, Commander Tucker, I'd like to ask you about how you found the child."

"It's in the report, sir." He'd written a thorough report, which naturally Captain Archer passed on to Starfleet.

"Indulge me, Commander."

Trip handed Elizabeth over to T'Pol, who propped the girl up on her shoulder and began to rub her back. "Well, we got the distress call from the _Tradewind_, an' when we found the ship it was flooded with radiation. There was a biosign, so Cap'n Archer sent Travis an' me over in E.V. suits. We traced the biosign ta the mess hall. When we saw it was a baby in the stasis unit, we called Phlox over right away."

"He told you that it would be safe to remove the child."

"The stasis unit needed a little tweakin' first, but yeah. Then we took her straight ta Sickbay."

"Did she require treatment?"

"Not much. The Doc looked her over, gave her a hypospray with some vitamins. When he said she was healthy, an' Cap'n Archer said it was okay, we took her here.

"'We,' Commander?"

"T'Pol an' I."

"You had not previously mentioned Commander T'Pol's presence in Sickbay."

"When her shift ended, she came down ta see the baby."

"Did you ask your wife before assuming responsibility for an infant?"

"Not exactly." Trip admitted. He knew that the Vulcan marital bond was an extremely private issue, and T'Pol had requested when they bonded that he not tell anyone about it.

"You either did or did not, Commander."

"Well, sir, it's-" He stopped because he knew T'Pol was about to speak up for him.

"He did not ask me in a verbal manner, Admiral," broke in T'Pol, just like he knew she would. "However, I was aware of his actions and approved of them." She did not stop rubbing Elizabeth's back.

"You knew what he was doing, even though he didn't tell you? What is this, some kind of telepathy?"

"Yes," answered T'Pol calmly. "This information is of a sensitive nature, and I must request that you tell as few individuals as possible."

Ross nodded. "Go on."

"Vulcan mates are called 'bondmates' because of a shared telepathic bond."

"And you share one with Commander Tucker?"

"It is considerably weaker than the bonds of most Vulcan bondmates, but present nonetheless. The bond I share with Charles is empathic in nature, but proximity increases the strength of the bond. Thus I was aware of Charles assuming responsibility for the child, and was pleased."

"I've never heard about this bond, and relations with Vulcans have improved greatly," frowned Ross.

"It is a personal matter, Admiral, and does not affect diplomatic relations."

"We've gone all this time without anyone bein' bothered," commented Trip, trying to persuade Ross not to tell anyone.

"The crew of _Enterprise_ doesn't know? What about Archer and Phlox?" The admiral was clearly trying to make up lost time and find out as much as he could.

"The only individual on board who is aware of this bond is Ensign Sato."

"Why Sato?"

"She is my friend." Trip had to suppress a smile at the way T'Pol refuted Ross's expectations of her.

"Well, I take it you've had a positive experience caring for the child."

"Yes, Admiral."

"Tucker? Anything else about finding the child?"

"We call her Elizabeth." Trip was sick and tired of referring to Lizzie as "the child."

"You've named the child?"

"We needed something by which to call her." Again, T'Pol kept the pattern of her hand smoothly rubbing Elizabeth's back, uninterrupted by Ross's questions.

"Thank you, Commanders. I'll keep you updated about the ch- Elizabeth." Ross caught himself. "A nice name, Commanders."

"Thank you, sir." Trip smiled.

"I'll be in touch. Ross out."

Trip smiled. "I think that went well."

"Indeed. I believe that we have left the admiral with a favorable impression."

"We're one step closer to lettin' her decide for herself if tomato soup's better than plomeek soup." Archer had compared the two dishes, setting off a rousing discussion in the captain's mess several nights previously.

"Whichever soup she prefers, I will appreciate the fact that she has the opportunity to decide all the more because of this struggle."

Trip looked at the baby in her arms. "We're gonna get her, T'Pol."

"While I believe that Admiral Ross will favor the idea, we are not 'out of the woods' yet." He really didn't like it when she used his colloquialisms against him.

"Almost," he replied, taking the baby he already considered his daughter. "But I just think they're gonna let us keep ya, Lizzie. We love ya too much ta let you go."


	4. Just a Few More Forms, and Then

A/N: There are elements of this chapter that would not have been written without the suggestion of PadawanMage. Thanks for the idea!

Trip stood before their viewscreen with T'Pol beside him and Elizabeth in her arms. He'd been in such a rush to hear what Ross had to say that he hadn't bothered to put down the rattle when Hoshi commed them, and if he moved Lizzie looked straight at it.

"I have good news Commanders. Citing the recent trauma and your recent exemplary care, 'the child found about the _Tradewind_ will be legally and permanently rendered into your custody.' That's the decision of the board. You just have a few more forms to fill out." Ross was a big believer in the no-beating-around-the-bush strategy of news delivery, which the couple receiving the news appreciated.

"Yesss!" exclaimed Trip triumphantly. That was followed by a moment of basking in their shared joy. Ross looked confused, but figured out that the silence had to do with their bond.

"Additionally, I didn't have to tell anyone about your bond."

"Thank you, Admiral."

"Commanders, there is one other thing. The adoption agency usually keeps information private, but we've got a whole planet that cares about this little girl."

"People are gonna put two an' two together as soon as we get back," Trip told T'Pol. "We might's well say somethin' now."

She hesitated for a moment, considering her desire for privacy and the inevitable discovery that he mentioned. "Very well. What should we say?"

"That we're thrilled?" suggested Trip, who had not stopped smiling since Ross told them the wonderful news.

"Admiral, we are honored and privileged to adopt Elizabeth. In the past three weeks, she has enriched our lives immeasurably."

"We couldn't imagine a future without her," added Trip. "She's gonna grow up with lots of love."

Ross looked at T'Pol and Elizabeth again, thinking about how odd it was that T'Pol and motherhood seemed natural.

"If you will excuse us, Admiral, our daughter's diaper needs to be changed."

"Our daughter," announced Trip, enjoying the phrase immensely. "We'll get those forms right back, sir."

"The sooner, the better." He looked at them again for a moment and wondered if he should tell them how he'd influenced the board's decision. "Commanders, I believe that the board made the right decision."

"Thanks, sir." Trip was still wearing a huge smile.

"As do we, Admiral," added T'Pol.

"Get me those forms as soon as you can. Ross out."

"This calls for a ship wide announcement!"

"Does it?" T'Pol was not, as a rule, a fan of ship wide announcements.

"Joy shared is doubled, so think of how big it'll be if we tell the whole ship!"

"While I believe that your logic is flawed, the crew has been supportive and does deserve to know that Elizabeth is our daughter."

That was all the encouragement he needed. "Tucker to Bridge. Hoshi, can you give me a ship wide channel?"

* * *

Trip woke up the next morning to hear Elizabeth crying and T'Pol talking to her. "Mornin' ladies."

"Good morning, Charles."

He checked the chronometer. "Six-fifteen? What time did she go to bed last night?"

"Shortly after zero hundred hours," answered T'Pol. The rhythmic Vulcan song not only soothed her daughter; it lulled her husband to sleep on occasion as well. The night before he had fallen asleep ten minutes before Elizabeth, despite his attempts to stay awake.

"Six hours? Lizzie, I think you set a new record!"

"Indeed," T'Pol told him over the cries, "this is the first time she has slept six hours without waking."

"I hope she keeps it up," he yawned. "Since you're doin' diaper duty, I'll start her breakfast." By this time, Trip could (almost literally) prepare baby food in his sleep. It didn't take long before Lizzie, in a fresh diaper, was snuggled in his arms enjoying her first meal of the day.

"Charles," said T'Pol, "We have twenty-seven letters." She'd finished cleaning up and taken the opportunity to check for letters, but had not expected to find over two dozen.

"Who're they from?"

"One is from your mother, although it has been less than twelve hours since we talked with her."

"She's almost as excited as we are, so I'm not surprised." He looked down at his daughter. "You've just got so many people who love ya."

"She has provided several helpful insights on how we might 'baby-proof' our new home." They weren't even the official owners of the house yet, although their offer had been accepted, but Lucy Tucker was a fan of thinking ahead.

"Another is official confirmation from the adoption agency. We are now legally Elizabeth's parents."

"Come here for a second," he said. "I can't move right now, but this calls for a celebration kiss."

He could feel her joy, and thought to himself that their bond was a splendid thing. "Look at how happy you're makin' you momma an' me," he told Lizzie. Still, he could feel undercurrents of concern from T'Pol. "What's the matter?"

"The other twenty-five letters," she said, returning to the desk to check. "I do not recognize the senders."

"Oh boy," groaned Trip. "Let me guess, they're writin' 'bout Lizzie?"

"Did you assume that we would receive such communications?"

"Um, a few, but not like this. I didn't even know that they released the info yet."

"Apparently they did."

"I'd say so. Just delete the whole lot of 'em."

"There is nothing to be gained from reading them, but their presence is a cause for concern."

"You had ta figure we'd get this."

"I did not anticipate so many people being displeased." She was silent for a moment, and then seemed surprised.

"What?"

"We just received another letter."

"I know that we'll be good parents, an' so do you. The adoption board agreed. That's all that matters, T'Pol. Not what some morons think."

"You are correct." She deleted the letters and walked over next to her family. "Hoshi would like to throw a 'baby shower' for us."

"Men don't usually go to those, ya know."

"Nor do Vulcans usually marry humans and adopt human children. I would appreciate it if you came."

"Okay, but can we make it so more guys come? If we're goin' for untraditional, we might's well." Then all he had to do was convince other guys to go. He was pretty sure that Captain Archer could be talked into it, and Hoshi could probably convince Malcolm. Dr. Phlox would go just for the sake of observation. That made three down, and roughly fifty to go.

Then a good attraction came to him. "Can we have lotsa snacks?"


	5. A Perfectly Normal Family: Epilogue

T'Pol held her daughter as she weighed the merits of various designs. Charles flipped the pages and provided his opinion. Elizabeth watched her parents, and the book they were examining, with curiosity.

"What's wrong with the balloons?" asked Charles. "I think this is a great one."

"It is one of the plainest designs offered."

"Balloons are good for birthdays," he countered.

She raised an eyebrow. "I have seen balloons used for six different occasions in the time since we moved here."

"Okay, what do you like for a birthday cake?" It was a sign of how the Tucker family had been accepted into their small community that the baker, Mrs. Kershaw, did not find her patrons unusual.

"The teddy bear is appealing," T'Pol said after a moment of consideration.

"This one," Charles said, tapping a page, "or the other one?"

Just then, their daughter said, "Pwetty." She looked at the teddy bear and repeated, "Pwetty."

"I was referring to the other one, but it appears that Elizabeth has chosen." She took a moment to enjoy the love and joy that Charles felt, and to share hers with him.

"That's our girl, Lizzie. A year old tomorrow an' ya already know what ya want." He looked at her for a moment, and then added, "Uncle Malcolm is on _Enterprise_ right now, but the first time he sees ya with cake, he'll try convincin' ya that pineapple cake is the best. Don't listen."

The door to the bakery opened. T'Pol did not recognize the individual who entered. He appeared to be a newcomer to the area.

"Commander Tucker?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

"It's _Captain_ Tucker now," chided Mrs. Kershaw, who felt a certain pride in the high-ranking members of Starfleet who were her neighbors and patrons.

"Matt Deschamps. I worked with you right before _Enterprise_ launched."

"Mimicin' Matt!" Charles exclaimed. "T'Pol, this is Matt Dechamps, an' he can do an impression of just about anyone. Matt, this is my wife, T'Pol, an' our little girl, Elizabeth. Lizzie for short."

"Pleased to meet you." T'Pol extended her hand, and Matt Deschamps shook it lightly. "Are you new to the area?"

He shook his head. "I'm just passing through on my way to visit my aunt, and I felt like a cupcake."

"Well, I'm glad you wanted that cupcake. Still in Starfleet?" inquired Charles.

"I'm shipping out soon on the _Discovery _as chief engineer. It comes with a promotion to lieutenant commander."

Elizabeth looked at T'Pol. "Hungwe, Momma."

"Excuse us, Mr. Deschamps. Elizabeth is hungry."

"I can let you go," he offered.

"You need not hurry. I am sure that you and Charles will have much to discuss."

Twenty minutes later, Elizabeth had finished eating and was playing with her toy kitten on the small lawn in front of the bakery. When Charles stepped out the door, she pointed to him. "Daddy!"

"Yes, that is Daddy." Charles had convinced her some time ago that 'Father' was too much for a small child to say, and she had agreed to call him 'Daddy' when talking to Elizabeth. Similarly, he referred to her as 'Momma.' "We will go see him."

As she lifted her daughter (toy kitten in hand) off the grass, T'Pol heard Lt. Cmdr. Deschamps ask Charles quietly, "Do you ever wish your family was a bit more, well, normal?"

Charles was displeased, especially because he knew that she heard the remark. His response was calm, however. T'Pol found herself realizing that, had a Vulcan asked her the same question, her response would have been less emotional, but similar in expressing contentment.

"I've got a perfectly normal family. A wife an' daughter who I love more than anythin' in the universe- what more could I ask for?"


End file.
